Something Wilder(17)

Leo paused, like he was deciding how honest to be. The old version of him had been an open book, at least with her. She had no idea what this one was thinking. “Hobbies… I read a lot. I like biking, running—”

“Working,” Bradley cut in with a sharp laugh.

“Right.” Leo nodded with a wince. “As for what I hope to get from this…”

When he trailed off, she focused on the abused wood of the table. It had been worn smooth over the years, scored and burned in some places and buckling from the weight of time in others. Lily could relate.

“I guess I’m looking for adventure. My day-to-day life is pretty routine.” He turned his baseball cap over in his hands and seemed to note that the mood had grown solemn. “But maybe let’s set the low bar of just not dying,” he added, and his lips curved into a small grin when the others laughed at this. Even this tiny glimpse of his crinkly-eyed smile made Lily’s heart fall like a weight into her stomach.

Walter clapped again, louder this time.

“Okay, well.” Lily floundered a little and motioned for Nicole to come forward with a small metal box. “I need your phones.” If they’d read the orientation material ahead of time, they’d all know this was coming. But Lily found that it didn’t matter how much they warned guests; a collective wave of griping and moans would always ripple through the group. Nicole walked along the table, thanking each man as he reluctantly set his device inside the box.

“You can keep whatever medicine you have, of course,” she continued. “And if there’s anything else you need—within reason—just let us know. We’re supposed to be roughing it; the point is for it to be hard.”

Terry let out a crude snicker. This one was going to be a handful.

She nodded toward where she spotted a small GPS unit sticking out of a pocket in his complicated vest. “You might want to lock that up in the tack shed. It won’t do you any good.”

Terry closed his eyes, sighing. “It’s a global positioning system, honey. Working in the middle of nowhere is literally its job.”

“Well, whoever sold it to you didn’t ask where you’d be using it.”

He ran a hand down his beard. “Do you understand how GPS works?”

Lily pointed to where spires of red rock could be seen in the distance. “We’ll be going there. Batteries run out, cell phone coverage is nonexistent, canyon walls block satellites, and out there under the sun? Those tiny digital displays are almost impossible to see. You have a paper map in your backpack. You’ll need to pay attention to it and to me. Not a GPS. Is that clear?”

“She’s scary, but I kind of dig it,” Walter stage-whispered to Leo, who, she noted, managed to hide any reaction at all to this.

Picking up a backpack identical to the ones she’d left in each of their tents last night, Lily began to unload it. “You’ve each been given a pack filled with things you’ll need. You can use the one provided or your own, but if you use yours, make sure to move every single thing over, including the sleeping bag on your cot. You’ll need it all. Anything you want to leave behind will be locked up securely in the tack shed.”

She smoothed a map flat on the table’s surface. A glance around reassured her that she had everyone’s attention, including Leo’s. It was an enlarged printout of one of the dozens of maps Duke had drawn in his lifetime. Her father knew the American Southwest better than almost anyone, and his expertise had been wildly in demand. Too bad it had rarely been lucrative. At least, not for him. Museums benefited, native lands were returned their artifacts, but Duke was never in it for the money. He might have received a small finder’s fee to help pay the bills, but it was the thrill of the chase that excited him, untangling clues and slowly unearthing history. It was the hunt.

Lily tapped the printout near the ridge where Duke had once carefully written the word Horseshoe. “This is where we are now.” She slid her finger down along the trail, pointing out some of the stops. “Tonight, we’ll camp at the edge of the spur in Robbers Roost, then on to French Spring below Hans Flat.

“Now, this part is important.” She pulled out another map of the area with elevation lines; there were a lot of them. “Stay away from the edge of any canyon. I guarantee it’s not as solid as it looks, and you’re not as athletic and steady on your feet as you think. Don’t learn the hard way.”

Eyes wide with mild terror, Walter nodded earnestly.

“Throughout the trip, you’ll get to solve some clues and use your maps to find the path and eventually find the treasure.” She straightened. “We’ll talk more about the rest as we go, but first things first, we’re getting you acquainted with your horses. I want everyone to roll up their tents and pack while we clean up breakfast, and then meet us at the corral. Does anyone need a good pair of boots?”

The men shook their heads, murmuring quiet nos. Only one person remained noticeably silent.

Leo ran uneasy hands over the thighs of his jeans, finally admitting, “I do.”

The last thing Lily wanted right off the bat was a reason to talk to him alone. “Right.” Her voice was sharp; Leo knew how important good boots were out here. “Get your stuff packed and meet me in the tack shed near the horses.”

He blinked at her, no doubt hearing the razor in her tone. “Okay.”